Janni, NC17, Tom/Bill, 5/?

[steins_stories]

Title: Janni
Author: steinsgrrl
Fandom: Tokio Hotel
Pairing: Tom/Bill
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I in no way intend to insinuate that any of the below actually happened. It is simply a piece of written entertainment based on the public personas of real people.
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Twincest-not related, Adult Concepts, Light Kink
Summary: When two men meet and fall in love, they expect there will be bumps in the road. When one of those men has a daughter, some bumps can seem more like mountains.
Author's Note: Thank you so much to ma_chelle for the beta. You are invaluable. Lovely banner by lynnchan. Thank you to jellypencil for the reassurance and cheerleading. You're the best. :)


The club was dim, only the glow of the candles on the table lighting their space. Tom could only see the other tables because of their own dancing candle flames; the other patrons, just shadows moving around them. A guitarist played on the small stage at the back of the club, his sound low, his fingers nimble on the strings. He sounded good, but Tom hadn’t been able to concentrate on the man’s skill at all.

He felt like he was sixteen again, going out on his first date, not knowing what to say or do. The car ride to the neighboring town had been mostly quiet and Tom could almost taste how nervous he was. He wasn’t even sure why; he was a big boy, right? He had his business, he had a house and a daughter and if someone had asked him, Tom would have said he thought he was a pretty decent guy.

But this thing with Bill, if he could even call it a thing, had his head spinning. He worried that everything he thought to say would sound stupid because of course Bill must have had previous experience with dating guys and done who knows how much more. Tom had never been with a man, let alone anyone so beautiful and desirable; he was scared to death that if this thing actually went somewhere, well—it wouldn’t go there for long because Bill would be so disappointed in Tom’s ignorance.

Tom had barely glanced at the menu since they‘d been seated, none of the words there looking anything like the English that he knew, and he found himself watching Bill, instead.

Bill held his menu cradled in one hand while an immaculately manicured finger trailed down the center of the page, his eyes moving back and forth while he read. He got to the bottom of the page, pursed his lips and looked up at Tom, as if to comment. He stopped short, however, when he found Tom staring.

Tom shook himself and smiled shyly before returning to his own menu and picking out the first item he recognized. He took a long drink of his water and glanced at Bill over the edge of the glass.

Bill could feel the nervousness coming off Tom in waves. He smiled a little at that; Tom wouldn’t be so nervous if he didn’t really like Bill, right? The thought bolstered the ego and enthusiasm that had been dampened by the lukewarm reception to Bill’s attempt at small talk in the car. Tom had answered him, but they were one-syllable replies, for the most part, and Bill had found himself rather discouraged. But something about this guy told Bill that maybe he just needed to work a little harder. He had a feeling Tom would be worth the extra effort.

“So,” Bill cleared his throat and took a sip of his water, “you know all about me from our chat in the park, but I know almost nothing about you. What do you do?”

Tom took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. Bill could almost see him steel himself and he suppressed a chuckle.

“I do freelance media design. So I design album covers, book covers, things like that,” Tom replied. He took another drink of water and set the glass down, running his finger through the condensation on the side.

“That sounds interesting. I think it would be cool to see something that you designed on an album or something.” Bill leaned forward, mimicking Tom’s stance, pushing up his shirt sleeves and resting his elbows on the table.

Tom smiled and Bill almost missed his next words. Damn, the man had a gorgeous smile. He sighed to himself, shaking it off just in time to catch what Tom was saying.

“It is pretty cool, and it never gets old, but you should know that.” Tom chuckled. “You’ve had your face…well, your whole self, in a magazine with a huge circulation.”

Bill could see the tension draining out of Tom as they spoke. Maybe he’d just needed to find something important to talk about, something that meant a lot to Tom. Apparently, Tom wasn’t a ‘small talk’ kind of guy.

“Oh no, it doesn’t compare at all.” Bill shook his head and sipped his water, running a thin fingertip around the edge after he set it back down. “I didn’t make me. I mean, this is just how I am, and what the makeup artists did with me, well, that’s all façade. What you do is create something relevant to a theme. It comes from your imagination, and that takes talent. It doesn’t take any talent to just be.“

Tom blushed, a dusky pink high on his cheeks, and Bill could see the ghost of a smile that he was trying to hold back. “Thanks.” Tom glanced up at him from where he’d been fiddling nervously with the edge of his napkin. “I think you’re selling yourself short, though. I’m sure there are aspects of modeling that are tough. Standing in one place too long, having to hold uncomfortable positions. But, oh!” Tom’s eyes were wide. “What about what you create for the clothing lines? That’s your talent, right?”

Bill smiled and waved a hand. “That’s just clothes, though. That’s no big thing.”

With a sideways glance, Tom smirked at him. “If it was no big thing, no one would do it. Then what? We’d all run around in togas or something.”

Bill considered that, tilting his head. “True. But,” he leaned a little closer to Tom, his voice low. He peered at Tom through his lashes. “We’d have much easier access, wouldn’t we?”

Tom looked at him seriously, one brow cocked. “That’s it. No more designing for you.”

It took a moment for Bill to realize what Tom had said and what he meant, mostly because Tom had seemed so nervous, Bill hadn’t expected him to flirt back. When he realized, he couldn’t hold back the laugh that burst out. This was much better!

Tom smiled sheepishly and then laughed along. “Sorry, I just couldn’t--”

“No, no!” Bill laid a cool hand on Tom’s arm. “I’m glad you did. The tension was getting a bit thick, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was.” Tom nodded and moved his water glass closer to the center of the table. Falling quiet again, his finger traced the wet circle it left behind, and Bill wondered how he was ever going to get this guy to open up.

He toyed with the edge of the tablecloth, wishing he could have a cigarette. Maybe if they backed it up. Take it slow, right? They needed to see where this could go, rather than just jumping in, as so many of his friends were prone to do. Maybe if Tom knew that Bill felt that way about it, he wouldn’t be so nervous.

“Hey,” Bill began, touching Tom’s forearm again and rubbing his fingers in a little circle, as if wanting to give some sort of comfort but was afraid the guy would bolt, “let’s just take this slowly, okay? We don’t have to rush into anything.” He searched Tom’s eyes and the relief he’d hoped to see was finally starting to show there. “Let’s just say we’re friends for now. No pressure. Will that work?”

Tom nodded again, his smile grateful. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” Bill squeezed Tom’s arm where he’d been touching it and sat back, resting his arm across the top of the booth between them. “Now tell me more about what you do? What’s been the most exciting project you’ve worked on?”

Tom began to talk about the work he’d done, and with a few follow-up questions from Bill, he really started to get into explaining his job and what was great about it. It wasn’t long before Tom was asking Bill about running the pub and what he thought about living permanently in their little town. Bill couldn’t believe how Tom had finally opened up, and it made him smile to see Tom chattering away, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.

They barely stopped talking long enough for the waiter to take their order.

~~~

“She said she wanted to stay, she didn’t want to come home!” Tom laughed and took his first bite of the chocolate cheesecake situated between them.

“Really?” Bill scooped a slice of the dessert with his spoon. “Hopefully she still feels that way when she gets into high school!” He took his bite and the chocolate taste was so rich, so overwhelming, he closed his eyes and couldn’t stop a small moan from escaping in a hum.

Tom sputtered and coughed and Bill opened his eyes quickly, reaching over to pat Tom firmly on the back. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Tom croaked, reaching for his water and taking a few sips, “I just…” Tom glanced at Bill before focusing again on the dessert between them. Bill thought he saw a hint of blush in Tom’s cheeks. Why on earth would Tom be blushing? “I just don’t want to think of her in high school.”

Bill grinned. “Can’t imagine her having a date for the prom?”

The look on Tom’s face was priceless. “She’s five! I can’t imagine her having a date at all!” He shook his head emphatically. “That’s not true. She can date all she wants-- right about the time she’s fifty and puts me in a nursing home.”

Bill snorted around his next bite of cheesecake and snatched up his napkin, holding it to his mouth. He swallowed quickly. “Fifty?” Licking his spoon leisurely, he chuckled at Tom’s enraptured expression. “That‘s pretty old for starting out, don‘t you think?”

Tom nodded. “Yes, definitely. But better that than starting out too young like…” The smile faded slowly from his lips, “…like I did.”

Tension settled back over the table and Bill put his spoon down, leaning back against the booth again. Tom looked out into the dimness of the club and the guitar music suddenly seemed louder than before. Bill had a feeling that Tom had something to say, and it didn’t seem to be something that was easy for him to talk about.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, Tom.” Bill said softly, his voice just a thin whisper above the noise around them.

Tom glanced at him, this beautiful man sitting beside him, in time to see Bill scoot closer. Bill’s arm was behind him, resting on the back of the booth and he was turned toward Tom, his legs crossed. Tom thought he could feel the heat coming off of him and he turned his attention to his fingers, inspecting them closely.

“No, you know, I have to get used to talking about it. Someday, I’ll have to tell Janni, right?” His eyes wandered, coming to rest on Bill’s white-tipped fingers plucking at the edge of the tablecloth. “Besides, it’s ancient history now. Shouldn’t matter anyway.” Tom tried to force a chuckle, which came out more like a grunt, and he winced.

Bill’s fingers found Tom’s shoulder and began a slow rub, calming him, and Tom leaned slightly into the touch, taking the comfort offered.

“We were only eighteen when we got married.” Tom looked quickly into Bill’s eyes, mostly to see if he understood what this was about, but also for the tiniest bit of encouragement. He hadn’t talked to anyone about this in years and the words felt strange leaving his mouth. “We were eighteen, and she was pregnant.”

Bill’s mouth formed an ‘O’ and he nodded.

“She didn’t want Janni. She wanted to abort, but I wouldn’t allow it. I threatened to take her to court to stop her, and my parents backed me up.” Tom sighed. “Instead, we got married. It was a stupid solution. I mean, the marriage never would have worked, but I would have done anything to have Janni.”

Bill raised his hand, signaling to the waiter, and ordered a beer for Tom. “So where is she now? You divorced her and got custody?”

Tom focused on the fold lines in the table cloth, pushing them down with his finger. Why was this still so hard to say? His gut clenched and he pushed the sick feeling down. “Soon after Janni was born, there was an accident. Nikki was driving.”

“Oh!” Bill reached out and grasped Tom’s hand in his own, rubbing his thumb across the back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“No,” Tom replied, his voice low. How could he be talking about this but thinking about how Bill’s hand was so soft? He twined their fingers together and squeezed carefully, “no, it’s okay. Ancient history, right? I mean, it’s sad Janni doesn’t have a mom but…” he shook his head, “well, maybe it’s not. You didn’t know Nikki.” Tom frowned.

Bill didn’t say anything and Tom was starting to wonder if he’d said something wrong. Was it too early for him to talk about what had happened? Bill had wanted to know, but maybe Tom didn’t have to tell him so much. He could have just said Nikki wasn’t in the picture anymore, so Bill didn’t have to worry about her, but something told Tom that he could open up with Bill. For the first time in a long time, Tom felt like he had someone he could let in.

Bill squeezed Tom’s hand and, as Tom looked over at him, he brought Tom’s hand to his lips and pressed a small kiss to the heel of his palm. “Thank you for telling me.”

The waiter brought Tom his beer, setting it quietly on the table in front of them. Bill picked it up and raised it to Tom, the beads of condensation running down the side of the glass bottle.

“To the happy family Janni has with you. “ He took a long drink before offering the bottle to Tom.

Tom took it with his free hand, his eyes not leaving Bill’s. A thought crossed his mind and he nearly laughed aloud at how juvenile it was; maybe he really was a teenager when it came to this. He was going to put his lips where Bill’s had been.

He brought the bottle to his lips and tipped it, the ice cold beverage flowing into his mouth. He swallowed the mouthful and darted his tongue to the lip of the bottle. Tom could really only taste the beer, but he liked to think he could taste a little bit of Bill, too, and in his belly, a slow flame started to burn.

~~~

Both Audi doors closed at the same time and Bill rounded the car, still laughing, partially from the joke they’d shared and partially just from the pure enjoyment of his date’s company. They met at the passenger door and walked to the house, their laughter dying down and being replaced with a small, secret smile on Bill’s lips and furtive glances from Tom.

As much as Tom couldn’t stop looking at Bill, it seemed that Bill couldn’t stop touching Tom. He’d held Tom’s hand the rest of the time they were at the club, only releasing him to pay the check and leave a tip. Tom wasn’t complaining at all; everywhere Bill touched seemed to tingle and Tom found himself wanting more. So this time, when Bill’s hand found the small of Tom’s back, Tom reached behind Bill and very lightly touched his fingers to Bill’s back, as well, flattening them out to spread his hand across the gauzy shirt Bill had worn. He could feel the heat of Bill’s skin underneath the fabric, could feel the muscles move there, and it felt good. Bill felt good, he smelled good, he looked good and Tom liked him. Where they’d go from here, Tom didn’t know, but now he knew where he wanted them to go.

The light was off on the porch and they stopped there, facing each other, barely breathing. Tom didn’t want to get all nervous again; taking steps backward got them nowhere, so he decided that the only thing to do was move forward. “I had a really good time tonight. Thank you for asking me out.”

Tom looked down; wanting not to get nervous and being able to keep yourself from getting nervous were two completely different things. All he could think about was the fact that he’d never done this before. All of this was so new. He’d never been on a date with a man, never kissed a man.

“You’re welcome.” Bill looked down at their hands, smiling because Tom had laced his fingers with Bill’s. “I loved being with you. Can I see you again?” He spoke quietly, as seemed appropriate in the darkness that surrounded them, and just that whisper from Bill gave Tom enough courage to take the next step.

He leaned in, his words a mere breath that ghosted over Bill‘s lips. “I would like that.” Bill’s eyes slid closed and his fingers tightened in Tom’s grasp. “But not just as friends.”

And then Tom kissed him. Very softly, very carefully, really just a brush of their lips, but Tom kissed him. He sighed into it, feeling the tingle where they touched, feeling the burning in his belly and the ache in his groin, and Tom remembered how it felt to want. But just when he would have tilted his head and deepened their kiss, Bill reached up, Tom’s hand still entwined with his long, cool fingers, and brushed Tom’s cheek, pulling away but leaving another smaller kiss behind.

Bill searched Tom‘s eyes before nodding as if finding the answer to some unknown question. Echoing Tom’s words, Bill whispered, “I would like that.”

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